


Those Under the Mistletoe

by Grain_Crain



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21732178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grain_Crain/pseuds/Grain_Crain
Summary: Capitão may have been a bit too nosy but Jackal comes to understand that he means well.
Relationships: Ryad "Jackal" Ramírez Al-Hassar/Vicente "Capitão" Souza
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Those Under the Mistletoe

December is definitely one of the busiest months. Bustling with people pursuing for gifts and happiness, whether they cost a diamond or near to nothing at all. The point is that families and friends gather to share warmth. The sense of safety and close connection is what we are looking for, a celebration to commemorate another year we had lived through.

_[It's the most beautiful time of the year, lights fill the streets spreading so much cheer. I should be playing in the winter snow, But I'mma be under the mistletoe.]_

“Hey, turn that Justin Bieber shit off! I can’t hear him.” A gutsy bellow pierces through the receiver, which has Capitão moving his phone away from the ear for a second.

“Mind your language, Manuella.” Capitão clicks his tongue.

“Sorry, _tio_. You know how much we all miss you,” The girl sighs and Capitão remembers those googly eyes that used to look up to him with adoration. Now she’s a young adult who’s helping out the other children in his orphanage that he has built nearly a decade ago.

“I miss you too, _tesouro._ I’ll be there soon.” 

“Oh, is that guy coming too-” She’s interrupted, then follows clicks and rustles from the other end of the call.

“ _Tio, tio!”_ A squeak busily calls out to him, “Can I have your picture so I can show Santa what I want for Christmas?” That must be the youngest who has recently joined his orphanage. Capitão greeted her into his family when he visited three months ago.

“We can’t have two of him, Letícia!” A boy shouts from afar, “What if Santa makes a doppleganger? I heard that they are scary.”

“Don’t be silly! Santa’s gonna put _tio_ in a bag and bring him here safely.” Letícia screams back but whines when there’s another series of rustle from the phone. 

“They are being silly. Don’t mind them.” Manuella seems to have gained control over her younger adoptive siblings. 

“It’s okay. I’ll be there as soon as I’m allowed to leave. Can you manage until then?” 

“Count on me. We’ll see you soon.” She hangs up after wishing him well, but Capitão knows that Manuella has ended the call abruptly to hide the disappointment that he won’t be able to celebrate Christmas with them. A sudden collapse of silence fills his lonely heart with guilt because this is the first time that he’s missing out on the festive holiday with his _children_. What use is making an orphanage and name is ‘Souza’s Cradle’ when he’s not there to give them hugs? It couldn’t be helped. No, especially when he’s obliged to look after a certain someone that he had wronged last week.

* * *

There are all kinds of people who don’t feel the holiday spirit. They are the cynics who refuse to oblige the capitalistic illusion that is Santa Claus, or those who denounce Jesus and St Nicholas altogether to keep themselves away from the religious marketing. Jackal is neither as his case is a tragedy; a lone man who has no family to celebrate the jolly season. Capitão shouldn’t have butted in. He had no right to be nosy, and yet there was an urge that led him to do something about it. He could trick himself that this is part of being a good Samaritan, but he would admit otherwise if someone asked him to be honest. 

Capitão wasn’t sure when he began to feel more than lukewarm for the Spaniard. Perhaps it bloomed from their regular drinking sessions. Those casual chatters that matured into deep philosophical discussions at 3am. Or it could be the friendly rivalry to find out which language is deemed more sensual than the other, to which they tried to flirt with their colleague but ended up testing it out on each other. Countless times they bantered about their first year as a rookie in the police force and the kinds of hoodlums that gave them a hard time. The sleepless night when Capitão suffered from nightmares and rare phantom pain, Jackal was there for him. Of course it was vice versa because Capitão knew where to find Jackal when the man suffered from his episodes of insomnia.

It may be useless to pinpoint the exact moment because when Capitão decided to talk about the tragedy, he was more than determined. 

“Are you ready?” Jackal flashed a crooked smirk. Those eyes sparkling with mischievous streak nearly distracted Capitão away from what he set out to achieve.

“Please. You’re nothing but stick and bones,” Capitão stretched and checked the surroundings. Safety mats were spread wide and there was no one other than them in the gym. Jackal had his gloves on while Capitão held the boxing mitts, to which they would swap over after a certain amount of sets, “Come at me, _chico._ ” On the hindsight, sparring session wasn’t the best time to talk about personal issues. Capitão wanted to create an atmosphere where Jackal could be at ease rather than some rigid one-on-one therapy session, because by Gods that was awful when he had one after losing an eye. 

“You’re only a year older than me.” Jackal dove in for a couple of jabs. One light and the other heavy, Capitão adjusted his posture to match the force that Jackal was exerting.

“They say ‘the older you grow, the wiser you become,’” The Brazilian reached out for a tap on Jackal’s cheek, “Try to relax. That last punch was a bit too stiff.”

“Stiff is good, no?” Jackal rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath, “Especially down there when you want to impress the ladies _and_ gentlemen.” He took a small hop forward and swung a right arm behind, giving an impression of a powerful straight. Just as Capitão braced for an impact, Jackal leaned back to bring his foot up for a teasing touch on Capitão’s inner thigh. 

“Oy!”

“Got you there.” Jackal laughed at the other man’s reddened face. They exchanged plenty of good natured insults before resuming the spar that they were meant to focus on.

It had been quite a while and Jackal was at the near end of his round. Thinking that it would be better to have Jackal punching out the possible oncoming anger, Capitão licked his lips before addressing the taboo, “Are you doing anything for Christmas?”

Jackal halted for a bit and then continued to punch, “No. Why do you ask?” His left hook barely touched the mitt.

“I thought about inviting you to my orphanage back in Brazil,” Capitão stepped in closer, “You can meet my children and maybe have yourself a vacation.”

“Oh, I’d love to see them. But vacation? You know I don’t need a break.” 

“Come on, Ryad. Everybody deserves a break,” Capitão gulped at how his worry had proven true. Jackal has been a tireless worker who often pushed himself beyond the limit, for the reasons that Capitão dreaded to guess, “You deserve one.” 

“No, I’m fine. I better finish my business here so I can do what needs to be done, you know? Before I forget those bastards.” There was a low growl emanating from the taller man’s throat. 

“I know,” A weight tugs on his heartstrings, “But that doesn’t mean that you should be so hard on yourself. Or pursue the revenge for that matter.”

Jackal landed an elbow blow that nearly threw Capitão off the balance, “What are you trying to say?” 

“I’m saying that it’s okay to let go. Even give it a rest for a few weeks rather than waking up with bloodshot eyes.” 

A sharp intake of breath, then followed a laboured exhale that Jackal didn’t make an effort to control, “I thought you’d understand.” 

“I do. Oh, you know I understand.” Capitão recalled those early mornings; one shot of tequila and two cigars had them open up about death in their family. Each had a young man who were their elder, an aspiring youth that carried responsibilities of their loved ones and grew their own dreams. To witness an untimely end was beyond unfair. It was down right cruel, an injustice those criminals boast with shameless pride. Capitão and Jackal may have joined the civil defense for different reasons, but they shared the initial motivation to eradicate evils in their society. Except Capitão learned to redirect his anger on a bigger frame while Jackal focussed on a small part of the picture. He kept painting red on a canvas that has his dead brother drawn on it. The brush hasn’t stopped for thirty years and we all know what happens to a paper that has too much paint on. You don’t get to see what was on it because the surface is all ruined and tethered.

“Then why do you say such a thing?” Jackal gritted as he threw a hand. What a sloppy hit.

“Because you act like you don’t deserve to be happy. It’s as if your life can’t have any other thing than revenge.” 

“That’s not true,” The taller man loomed over, “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Then tell me what you want to do after you kill them all,” Capitão pushed the other man away, “ What’s left for you after you do ‘what you need to do.’”

“I will find a place and live somewhere.” Jackal replied almost immediately.

“And then?” Capitão pressed on.

“What do you mean, ‘and then?’” 

“You are just going to live? Do nothing other than that?” An eye leered to pursue an honesty.

“I’ll manage. It’s not like that should concern you.” Jackal bit on his lips and averted his gaze.

Capitão swallowed dryly as he felt a pang of heartache upon hearing such dismissal of their friendship, “It should concern me. I can’t stand a friend wasting his life away like this.”

“If you are really my friend,” Jackal shoved his gloved knuckle on Capitão’s chest, “You would support my cause.”

“No. I support you and your family. I would stand by what Faisal would have wanted for his little brother,” Capitão lowered a fist on his chest with his mitt, “He would want you to be happy, even if it means to forgive and forget.” 

The uppercut struck right below his chin, and yet Capitão felt it slowing down at the moment of the contact. He would have had a locked jaw if Jackal didn’t hesitate, but an act of violence was clearly evident at this point. Their trust broken, the bond damaged due to sheer impulse. None of them spoke a word nor moved from their spot; if Jackal bent down to offer a hand, Capitão would have forgiven the man. If only, because Jackal threw the gloves off and ran out without looking back. Ever since then, the air between them have been tense, cold and distant. On top of that, they got a warning due to disorderly conduct and got five days of their mandatory holidays taken off. Hence, that's why he won’t be able to visit Brazil before Christmas. All because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. 

* * *

The memory trip ends when he notices someone calling out for him. It’s more of a yell than a holler, to which Capitão understands where his Manuella learned such brash attitude from.

“Vicente! Are you deaf in one ear as well?” She’s shouting right next to him, rendering his eardrums numb.

“I heard you. What’s the problem?” 

“Álvarez is looking for you. Now go tell her to stop bothering me over some stupid shit.” Caveira spits and leaves towards the direction that smells strongly of cinnamon sugar.

“That one's going to be trouble one day.” _As if she isn’t one now._ Capitão sticks a pinky in his ear and walks over to the workshop garage. Upon entering, there’s a flutter on top of the door frame. A distraction that causes him to look up and bump into someone who stands in his blindspot.

“Sorry-” A startled voice is all too familiar, “Look what you’ve done. Making me stand in someone’s way when I could have left hours ago.” The man chuckles at someone in the room. 

Capitão blinks at the sight in front of him; a broad back and lean waist that he’s seen countless times from their deployment. Moreover the scent that’s a fine mixture of cologne and body wash, “Shit.” He should back away and leave.

“Don’t mind me. Elena’s been talking non-stop as usual. You know how it is-” Jackal turns around and the cheerful courtesy dissipates when their eyes are locked, “Oh. Hello.”

“Hey.” Capitão nods only once. They stand still as if there’s an unspoken rule to be as awkward as possible, to which invokes an exaggerated sigh from the supposed chatterbox.

“Look up, fellows,” Mira points above the two men. There hangs a mistletoe hastily plastered with copious amount of duct tape. What charming ways to introduce the holiday romance, “You gotta kiss.”

“Is this what you mean by ‘a pressing matter?’” Jackal leans against the door frame.

“With all due respect, Elena,” Capitão steps forward, “I think we can excuse ourselves.”

“Nope, no excuse. Dr Pandey’s order,” Mira coughs but that’s a poor attempt to hide a laughter, “He said that there’ll be a bonus for those who gets _friendly_ under the mistletoe. It’s a team building exercise.”

“Isn’t that sexual harassment?” Capitão shrugs as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“That’s why he said _friendly._ It can be a hug, handshake, or even a high five. Doesn’t have to be a kiss unless that’s what you are looking for.” A scoff cracks under her facade. 

“Don’t get any funny ideas.” Capitão rolls an eye and expects the taller man to move away or sass back; so it’s a genuine surprise when the man does neither. Jackal stays composed as he gazes back at Capitão. His face completely still, but those eyes are shaking in with an unreadable expressions.

“How are we supposed to claim this reward if people can easily lie that they’ve done it?” Jackal asks while fixing his attention on the Brazlian. 

“You just need a witness,” Mira grins from ear to ear, “And I happen to be your good friend, boys. You can do whatever and have your penalty removed, I guarantee. I’ll leave and tell him that you guys did whatever you need to do, so don’t be shy!” She leaves to give them some privacy, and Capitão wonders if Jackal had already told her about what went down between them. 

“I guess that’s not a bad deal.” _Not a bad deal indeed._ If they hadn’t ended their sparring session on a sour note, Capitão would have pulled in for a playful hug and sneak a kiss on cheeks as an overly enthusiastic greeting. Perhaps this could be a first step to regain the connection that’s been severed, so he faces the Spaniard and extends a hand for a firm shake.

“I guess it should be done, one way or the other,” Jackal tenses to click joints on his fingers, “Vicente, will you forgive me for what I’ve done back at the gym?”

The apology shakens Capitão momentarily. Dumbfounded and confused, he opens his mouth to say something comprehensible other than a mere, “Sure.”

“Thank goodness.” The taller man sighs and leans in. The moment their lips pressed against each is incredulous at first, then the scorching contact registers on Capitão’s nerves like a hummer truck that moves at the speed of a snail. Slow and yet heavy, a force that can’t be ignored or avoided as it presses on his entire being. He’s breathless during the whole process until Jackal parts to see whether their feelings are mutual.

“Was that a sexual harassment?” Jackal’s question comes out shaky.

“No,” Capitão mutters, “As long as if it wasn't a horrendous prank.”

“I swear it isn't, only if you’d understand.” He leans in for a hug this time, and the gesture is gladly reciprocated.

“You know that I do.” Capitão breathes in and finds comfort as relief washes over him. _So he hasn’t been the only one. Thank goodness, indeed._

“I really thought about what you’ve said,” Jackal holds on tighter, “And you’re right. I haven’t thought about what to do after I hunt them down. But if I put you in that future, I find it easier to imagine,” A sob escapes, “Do you think Faisal would be happy for me like this? To give up on those who took him away from us?”

“I’m sure he’d be happy as long as you are generous to yourself,” Capitão pats on the shuddering back, “I assure you.”


End file.
